


wrong about you

by emmaofmisthaven



Series: Captain Swan AU Week 2015 [2]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Captain Swan AU Week 2015, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-27
Updated: 2015-07-27
Packaged: 2018-04-11 13:36:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4437503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmaofmisthaven/pseuds/emmaofmisthaven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“How will you bypass the curse?”<br/>Hook’s features are schooled, collected, but Emma knows better – it is her job to know better, to spot when someone is bluffing. And Hook, oh he’s good, but not good enough.</p>
            </blockquote>





	wrong about you

“How do you plan on getting your revenge?”

The words, coming out of Mary Margaret’s mouth, are surprising and unexpected enough that Emma stops in her tracks, turning around to stare at the other woman as she looks expectantly at Hook. Even Mulan throws a startled glance above her shoulder, and Hook raises an eyebrow as he meets Mary Margaret’s eyes.

Mary Margaret shrugs, unapologetic.

Emma has to admit she is curious about the answer, too – they are pretty much accessories to murder by agreeing to help Hook travel to Storybrooke, and the idea doesn’t sit exactly well with her. Not that they have that big of a choice, but this grey area is darkest than she’d like.

“You needn’t worry about such details,” Hook replies, so obviously deflecting that Emma can only raise her eyebrows at that.

He doesn’t have a plan.

Mary Margaret isn’t fooled either, not that Emma expected anything else from her mother. She is unimpressed, her features strict and her eyes all business, so far from the sweet roommate Emma had learnt to know through the months. It’s still strange, having to combine both women in her mind.

“How will you bypass the curse?”

Hook’s features are schooled, collected, but Emma knows better – it is her job to know better, to spot when someone is bluffing. And Hook, oh he’s good, but not good enough.

“Which curse?” Emma asks, out of curiosity, but also because she knows he will never stoop to ask. Call it pride all you want; she calls it sheer stupidity, at that point.

Mary Margaret’s eyes dart to her daughter, then Hook, then Emma again. “If you kill the Dark One, you absorb his powers and become the Dark One yourself. That’s one of the reasons why Gold – Rumplestiltskin is so powerful, nobody ever found a way to defeat him.”

“I will,” Hook says, jaw clenched, muscle popping in his cheek.

Both women share a look, and know better than to linger on the subject.

 

…

 

He’s silent, brooding, all through the journey to the beanstalk. Even then, he barely utters more words than is necessary, explaining how the bracelets work and putting the second one around Emma’s wrist with challenge in his eyes. She wouldn’t go as far as saying that she misses the way he would ruffle their feathers and push their buttons but it was – entertaining, if a little annoying. Way better than his current mood, that’s for sure.

They are halfway up the beanstalk – at least Emma hopes they are, they have been climbing for what feels like hours and she refuses to look down and check for herself – when Emma decides to break the silence he imposed on them both. It’s just getting oppressive, at this point, and she doesn’t do well with that.

“He took more than you hand, huh?”

Hook is a little above her, and so looks down, the image of boredom. She knows better, though, can read the storm clouding his eyes. When he smirks, it is forced and false.

“Perceptive, are you?”

Emma rolls her eyes. “Fine, don’t tell me.”

She grabs another branch, ignores the burn in her arms as she pulls herself up. Her every muscle screams in agony, and her lungs aren’t any better, but she refuses to give up now – not that she has a choice on the matter, mind you. Her heart beats to the rhythm of Henry’s name, and she won’t let a pouting pirate distract her so easily.

So she braces herself, takes a deep breath, and keeps climbing.

It is yet another five minutes – or maybe ten minutes, or maybe an hour – before Hook sighs, heavy and loud, like a child demanding attention. It works, her eyes snapping to him immediately, and she hates him for it.

“Her name was Milah. He killed her.”

Emma doesn’t need more than that. She closes her eyes and sees grey ones looking back at her, with a shy smile and curly hair. She grabs a branch and feels leather under her fingertips, shaking a lifeless body. Yes. She gets it.

“Is she worth becoming the Dark One for?”

Hook stops in his tracks, and she raises her head to look at him once again. He seems – puzzled, almost, like she confuses him for some reason. She raises her eyebrows in question, and he shakes his head as to snap out of it. Whatever it is.

“If you’re asking me this, you’ve never truly been in love.”

It stings, a little – right in the insecurities, twist the knife and pour some salt. She shouldn’t let a fairy tale pirate lecture her on true love, but his words hit close to home. Would she have killed, died for Neal? She went to prison for him but, still. Perhaps it is a question better lest unanswered, especially after all this time.

“Why should we even trust you?” she finds herself blurting. “At best, you become our next problem. At worse, you double-cross us to go back to Cora.”

And here it is again, the clenching jaw and popping cheek muscle. Note to self: the pirate is sensitive about loyalty. Not that it makes sense to Emma but, as with most things in the life she lives, she opts not to dwell on it for too long.

“You shouldn’t,” he tells her.

She leaves it at that.

 

…

 

“Emma.”

It’s the first time he calls her by his name, soft and a little desperate, as his fingers wrap around her wrist, just above the bracelet. She looks into his eyes, hers widening with a decade old fear, and curses herself for such a weakness. Neal is long gone, she knows better – knows better than to believe all the men in her life will stab her in the back.

“Emma, look at me.” She does. “I need you more than you need me. Don’t do this.”

She looks down at the handcuffs, reaches for the key in her pocket.

Here goes nothing, after all.

 

…

 

His fingers tremble against the cold metal of the dagger. He can’t stop staring at the name, as if it could help, as if it would be more effective than summoning her. He won’t try again. Once was too much already, and useless at that – it leaves a bitter taste in his mouth, knowing he supposedly has all the powers over her and yet it didn’t work.

He refuses to try again.

Refuses to have her at his mercy if it works.

A hand on his forearm, and he looks up to meet the queen’s eyes, so like Emma’s he can even hold her gaze for more than a few seconds. Her eyes are rimmed with red, too, no doubt matching the wetness he feels in his, blurring his vision and giving him a headache. He can’t look at her, least he loses himself.

“I should – if I had killed him, it would be me, instead of her.”

Guilt rises in his throat until he chokes on it. Thankfully, the queen doesn’t say anything on the matter, too polite to agree with him. He has no doubt she would have wanted him to become the Dark One if it meant her daughter were safe – he can’t even blame her for such a thought. Not when that same thought have been festering within him even since Emma disappeared, the dagger left behind.

The queen smiles, small and sad.

“We’ll find a way.”

If anything else, he believes that.


End file.
